Revenge Syndrome
by Asukai Haruka
Summary: "Do you want to die?" Faced with a powerful question from the depths of their shattering minds, what will their answers be? Will they succumb to the screams of their vengeful hearts, to the disease of bloodthirsty insanity? Characters: Neo, Blake, Cinder, Weiss and Yang. Oneshot. M for violence and lots of it.


**A/N: I wanted to write Baked Alaska for my big sis, but ended up with this instead. Oops. Nevertheless, I hope that you enjoy this story, Yang! Love you!**

 **Torture and senseless violence is present, copiously, in this story. Hence, the Mature rating (not for depictions of sexual situations).**

 **For now, this will be a one-shot, even though it feels really prologue-y, because I am way too tired and swamped to work on expanding this. But if you really want more, tell me and I'll consider it if there's enough feedback.**

 **Haruka**

 _Revenge Syndrome: the disease of the vengeful heart  
Symptoms: a unique, inhuman ability that varies according to each sufferer, also known as a Semblance; an overwhelming, psychotic desire to kill; voices in the head  
Cure: None_

* * *

"We deserve respect! We deserve to be treated like humans!" A high-pitched child's voice pierces the hot, humid air, drawing curious gazes from nearby guards. "We should not take this lying down anymore!"

A mass of bodies hides the child from view, murmurs passing through the crowd as she continues, "We should not have to endure anymore beatings! We are people too!"

A fist goes up in the air, belonging to a thin, scarred boy with curved horns on his head; the right has been broken and is clearly missing a half. The others stare at him as he begins to chant, "No more beatings! No more beatings!"

Nervously, another voice joins him, a tall, tan young man with a pair of bear's ears atop his head. Another follows, then another, the chant growing stronger and stronger as more fists fly defiantly into the air, the other clenched tight around dull blades.

"Let's show them how strong the Faunus can be!" the child's rallying cry causes the crowd to turn away from the rows of cocoa trees, blazing eyes fixed on the scattering of human guards around them.

Concern begins to fill the humans' faces as the Faunus approach, an angry horde, and they raise their voices in a futile attempt to threaten their enraged charges. "Back off, you stupid animals, get back to work!"

"Keep it down or else!"

"Hey, get back to work! Don't you dare touch us, filthy animals!"

Their increasingly desperate warnings fall on deaf ears, the rage fighting to burst from scarred skin providing the Faunus more courage than they could ever dream of possessing. As one, they move forward, a singular entity with a hundred dulled machetes, boiling with the anger and frustration they have swallowed for so long.

The two sides clash and scuffle, and for a while it seems that sheer numbers are helping the Faunus win. The guards are on the floor, overwhelmed, stripped of their stun guns and swords, blood slick against their scalps and spittle foaming from their open mouths.

Then, the first gunshot rings across the plantation, whizzing over their heads. The stench of Dust frightens them, their courage melting as their awareness grows: armed with nothing but six stun guns, six swords and a whole bunch of machetes too dull to even cut through a cocoa pod in one strike, they stand little to no chance against a fully Dust-equipped human taskforce.

Another gunshot, this time it plows into the group. A wave of light and heat swallows them, screams and yelps spiking the air as the stench of burning flesh rises – a red Dust bullet. The terror rises, an unstoppable wave, drowning out the rage and defiance that burns away at their insides.

"Still wanna fight?" a human male from the frontline smirks, resting his gun on his shoulder, "Or will you give in obediently and live?"

The group shuffles, protectively circling around the young and the injured, but no one says a word. Their gazes are hollow, angry but afraid, they know their place and no matter how hard it is for them to swallow, they will accept it. Fighting now will only result in massive losses, and they will never willingly endanger the lives of children.

"Who's the little bastard that started this?" the human shouts, signaling to the troops behind him to raise their weapons. "It's either you own up, or the whole lot of you suffer together."

Silence – the Faunus refuse to sell out one of their own, especially not a child. They know what fate awaits the fool who steps up, the hours of agony and bloodshed in their torture chambers, and they will never wish such harm upon anyone, let alone a child.

One of the bigger men at the front shift forward – a lion Faunus, his dark skin marred by crisscrossing whip scars. However, before he can say a word, a tiny voice sounds out from the center of the group, brave and clear.

"I started it."

Immediately, the group begins to murmur, a nearby teenager quickly hushing the offending child, "Ssh, Neo! What are you doing?"

"I started it and I'm not ashamed!" the child, Neo, responds indignantly, causing a louder shushing to spread through them.

"Who is it, the little bitch who owned up?" he draws closer to the group, attempting to look over the broad, sun-beaten shoulders of the front row, "Bring it out here."

"S-Sir, she doesn't know what she's saying," the lion Faunus protests, not daring to look the human in the eye, "I was the one who started it."

"Cordovan, I don't need you to save me," the child complains, wrestling her way through the group despite their best attempts to restrain her. "I'm a big girl now, I can take this."

Urgent hisses of her name fall on deaf ears as she forges onward, until she is standing defiantly before the armed human two times her height.

A little over three feet, the child is painfully small, her hair a brilliant twist of white streaked pink and brown, her eyes a similar shade of pink. Besides that, nothing about her betrays her Faunus heritage – no horns, extra ears or tails. There is not a scrap of fear in her eyes, only anger, and it hurts the group to know that she will never be this way again.

When they are through with her, she will be lucky to still be able to walk the same way.

"Big girl, huh?" he scoffs down at her, spitting down on her toes. She narrows her eyes, a low, catlike growl building in her throat, and he simply cuffs her harshly around the head. "Shut up, stupid half-breed. You shouldn't be heard in either circle – animal or human – you're just some pathetic mash-up that exists because your daddy had a cat-ear fetish."

She snarls at him again, defending the father she only knows from stories – a kind, warm-hearted man, in no way perverted. He was trialed for "breeding with a Faunus" shortly after she was born, and when he refused to relinquish legal hold over his daughter, was killed in a very coincidental "accident" with a truck, ending the battle. Baby Neopolitan was officially a bastard Faunus, stripped of her family name and handed off like property to her mother's owners.

"Neo, please, stop," Cordovan hisses under his breath; her mother's youngest brother, he is fiercely protective over his young niece, the only reminder of his sister he has left to cling to. "You'll just make it worse for yourself."

Neo ignores him, glaring up at the human instead. He chuckles, a nasty sound, before bringing his steel-capped boot to her stomach, causing her to crumple to the ground with a gasp.

"Neo!" all they can do is watch and call out her name, too afraid of punishment to annoy the cruel human.

She gets back up only to be kicked down again, the painful process repeating as a twisted grin begins to spread across the human's face. Her eyes remain defiant, angry, and Cordovan wishes he can just scoop her up in his arms and take her away from here.

"Alright, I've had enough. One of you pick up the brat and take her to the chamber for me," he announces at last, giving the small child one last kick to the head.

She growls at him, hissing through clenched, bloodied teeth, hurt but not daunted in the slightest. "I'm not scared of you, dickhead!"

The insult makes him clench his fists, his eyes burning. "What did you call me, you little bitch?"

"Are you deaf too, dickhead?" she responds bravely, causing the group to gasp collectively.

"Alright, that's it. I'm sick of this kid's voice. Bring her in right now, I'll teach her a lesson she'll never forget."

In despair, the group can only watch as the child is led away from them, taken to a place where she will be irreparably broken. In a way, it is a relief that her mother is dead; no mother should ever be forced in such a position, to helplessly sob as her child is ripped to pieces…

Inside the blood-soaked building, Neo's defiance does not waver, even as they restrain her skeletal arms and legs to rust red iron poles and pull out glass-powdered whips to test against strips of flesh from rotting corpses, splitting foul-smelling skin.

He comes in again, the human she insulted, a beaker of strangely colored liquid in his hand. As he swirls it, he growls, "You're going to regret calling me that, you disgusting beast."

"What, dickhead?"

Before she can even take pleasure in her cockiness, he forcefully grabs her jaw, forcing her mouth open. She gasps in pain, eyes narrowing in anger and hatred as he brings the beaker to her lips, hissing threateningly, "Time for you to learn a lesson in respect."

The liquid burns at her throat the instant it enters, her throat parts in an agonized scream that dies as her flesh bubbles and splits and melts away, choking her. Silent tears stream down her face as she coughs, blood and the strange liquid splashing onto the floor, the pain searing down her windpipe and up into the center of her skull.

She wants to wrap her hands around her throat, to shove her fingers so far back into her mouth that she vomits, to do _anything_ to get that burning liquid out of her body, but she cannot. All she can do is choke and gasp, trembling in pain, as the smug-faced human brings out a nine-tailed whip.

He cracks it across her back, the glass-coated tails easily ripping through her skin and biting deeply into milky pale flesh. She gasps, the scream trapped in her brain, as he strikes her again and again, pain searing through every inch of her mind. Blood, hot and sticky, slides down her ruined skin, the agony so intense that a warm liquid begins to seep through her pants and down her legs.

"Oh man, kitty wet herself!" the man throws his head back, cruel laughter slicing through Neo's small body. "This thing's a lion? Don't make me laugh."

She has never felt so small and helpless in her life, nor has she ever felt such intense hatred. The agony consumes her, causing her already rotten insides to collapse, the waves of increasing pain reaching a pulse-pounding crescendo.

Her mind is falling apart, her vision filling with white, the jeers and laughs of her tormentors slowly fading away under the all-consuming pain. She can't think anymore, her mouth stretched wide open as if to scream, bits and pieces of her ruined throat escaping her lips in dry coughs.

 _Do you want to die?_

The sudden voice in her head makes her flinch; inside her head, she sees a hollow-eyed version of herself with hate-darkened brown eyes, a twisted smirk on her face.

 _The choice is all yours, Neopolitan. Do you want to die? Will you be satisfied if you die?_

For some strange reason, the pain takes a backseat, her body growing limp as she stares right into the hate-filled eyes of herself. What should she do, what should she say? Is she satisfied if she dies now?

Of course not, there is no way that she can be! She has to live, to make them pay for the suffering of her kind and of those like her father, the kind humans who look upon the Faunus and see another living being to respect, to befriend, to love…

"Damn, what is with the look on her face?" unnerved, the humans look down at the bloodied, hunched form of the little girl, an absent smirk plastered across her face. Her eyes are empty, psychotically so, and slowly, she looks up at them.

For a split second, one of her eyes turns brown, her smile widening. Cursing to himself, the human brings down the whip once more, only for the scene to shatter like glass…

* * *

"EQUALITY" "FAUNUS RIGHTS = HUMAN RIGHTS" "NO RIGHTS, NO PEACE"

All around the young teenager are Faunus, proud and uncovered, waving signs and cards as they march down the main street of Vale's prime shopping district. Taking a deep breath, she gathers her courage, adding her voice to theirs.

"FAUNUS LIVES MATTER! STOP DISCRIMINATION! FAUNUS LIVES MATTER!"

By her side, her mother reaches down for her hand, pulling her close and whispering into her triangular ears, "Stay close to me."

She nods, resisting the urge to make a face – she's thirteen years old now, she doesn't need her mother to take her by the hand anymore. However, she does understand her mother's concern; a pro-Faunus public rally is not the safest place for any adult to be, let alone a thirteen year old. Still, people have brought their children along, determined to instill within them a sort of Faunus pride.

Humans gather at the sidewalk to watch, some of them plug their noses and hiss but she doesn't care. They're being seen and that is enough, the government can no longer pretend that Faunus do not exist, that they do not mind the discrimination and ill-treatment because they have no souls. Hopefully, this will bring awareness of the issue to the forefront, and maybe some humans will start aiding them in their cause.

Onward, they march, chanting loudly and blocking up store entrances with their sheer numbers, ignoring the dirty looks thrown at them by immaculately dressed sales staff. The Schnee-backed high-fashion chain, _Kristall_ , even goes so far as to slam their pretty, snowflake encrusted glass doors shut, sneering and pinching their noses at the "stench".

The sign of the Schnee logo makes the girl's blood boil; her father has been toiling for that accursed company for years and has nothing but scars and a limp to show for it. The Schnee Dust Company does not only employ Faunus for the dirty work in the mines, but also use Faunus on their weaponry manufacture lines. That is where her father has spent most of his life, stiff-backed in a rusted chair, soldering and screwing weaponry parts together in the half-light.

 _This has to stop!_

The crowd turns into the next street, emboldened by the lack of human response, marching right past the rows of foreign banks from the likes of Mistral and Vacuo. Normally, no Faunus will be caught dead in that area, because somehow money will go missing, and the foolish Faunus' head will roll for it. But today… today is different.

A police truck pulls up at the end of the road, blocking them in, and for a moment the procession stays deathly still and silent, the memory of brutality too fresh in their minds. Her mother's grip on her hand tightens, her father shifting protectively over them as her heart leaps to her throat.

 _What will they do to us? What will they say? Will we be arrested and tortured?_

With baited breath, the crowd waits, tails beginning to lash and ears flattening against skulls in a mixture of fear, impatience and anger.

At last, the officers finish wrestling with the loudspeakers, managing to broadcast their crackled voices to the crowd, "This is the Vale Police Department. You are to cease your unlawful activities immediately, or else we will be forced to take extreme measures."

"This is a peaceful protest, the law grants us the right to peacefully protest!" someone at the front of the group shouts, the rest chorusing their agreement.

"Those rights are accorded only to humans, not animals," the policeman spits, the slur making the crowd flinch and hiss. "All men, line up against this wall with your hands behind your heads. Women and children, go home now."

A murmur passes through the crowd as they exchange meaningful glances, unsure if they should give in or risk a fight. The Faunus outnumber the police drastically, but they have no weapons on their person to deal with their stun guns and batons.

"Dad, we aren't giving up, are we?" the teenager gently tugs her father's hand, concern clear in her amber eyes.

"I don't know, Blake, I don't know," he responds softly, turning to glance at the burly bear Faunus next to him. The bear Faunus nods sharply, and the nod ripples powerfully through the crowd – they are to fight and the children are to be kept in the middle, out of harm's way as much as possible.

Blake wants to protest, she is no longer a child, but the concern marring her father's features silences her. This is a serious matter, lives may be lost, it is not the time to prickle with teenage defiance.

The moment the last child has been nudged into the center, the group raises its voice once more, showing their collective decision.

"FAUNUS LIVES MATTER! FAUNUS ARE PEOPLE TOO!"

For a moment, the police seem stunned, unaccustomed to the show of solidarity and defiance from a species once thought of as fearful, primal and stupid. Then, they sigh, one of them disappearing around the side of the truck as the others pull out their stun guns.

"Alright, stop this stupidity, you dumb animals! This is gonna get real ugly."

A young rabbit Faunus hurls his sign at them, the cardboard smashing into the side of the policeman's face. The crowd gasps – both human and Faunus – surprised by a show of violence from such a timid species.

Without warning, the guy who disappeared behind the truck emerges with a huge white canister, and the policeman with the bruised face yanks it from him.

"You feral bastards are going to regret that," he hisses as he connects his stun gun to it, causing a number of heads to tilt in confusion.

When he pulls the trigger, everything becomes clear. The canister contains rounds of _Dust-enhanced_ bullets, and every single spray lets loose a myriad of elements – fire, ice, earth, wind… It tears through the crowd like they were paper, sharp cries of pain and fear filling the air as abandoned cards and signs begin to burn.

"Die, you stupid animals!" another canister has been brought out, and with less bodies between her and the police, Blake can easily see the Schnee Dust Company logo emblazoned on the side.

"Turn back, turn back! Women and children first!" the protesters begin to flee back the way they came, women clutching tear-streaked youngsters to their chests as the men shove at bystanders to create more room.

"Stop! Stop! We've been surrounded!" a wail of despair fills the air, and Blake gasps in horror as she sees more policemen, armed with those white canisters, pour into the other end of the street. She has no idea where her father is anymore, no idea if he was one of the bodies they left behind a few blocks ahead where the police started shooting; in fact, she is quite sure she has no idea where she is anymore.

"This is crazy! There are children here!" a mouse Faunus shouts, her face wet with tears, three identical-looking brown haired kids, barely nine years old, huddled around her and wailing. "Stop shooting! There are _children_ here!"

The cry is taken on by more desperate mothers attempting to shield their offspring with their bodies, and Blake's heart aches to find her own mother's voice among them, her body cradled in her warm arms.

"M-Mom…" she has no idea what to feel, if it should be anger or despair or hatred, her insides are a hollow mess and she wishes it were all just a nightmare. But it's not, the wailing, the gunfire and the stench of fear and death is real, all too real…

A bullet strikes nearby, shattering into thousands of glittering ice fragments that tear at her back, at her mother's arms and body. The smell of blood is choking, she can barely breathe; the mouse Faunus is now nothing but a bloody mess impaled by a dozen icicles, and only one of her triplets is still alive. The child wails, soaked in the blood of its family, and Blake's mother attempts to draw him closer.

Before she can reach him, another bullet strikes, waves of light and heat consuming them. When it clears at last, the child's headless torso is all that remains of him, and Blake dry heaves against the bloodstained asphalt as her mother drags her deeper into the crowd, slipping on the entrails of the dead and dying.

"You have to survive, Blake, you have to," she mumbles, delirious with pain, "You can't die, you just can't die…"

The ground beneath them rocks violently, spurs of rock jutting out of the cracks in the bitumen. Children scream and cry, the ground is slick with blood and the sky fogged with smoke – the scene is almost apocalyptic, like something straight out of Blake's favorite dystopian novels, just far too real.

Suddenly, Blake's world jerks violently forward, sending her sprawling into the ever-growing puddles of blood. She yelps, scrambling to her feet, turning to look for her mother, to see what had happened to her.

What she sees will haunt her for the rest of her life.

Her mother, sprawled on the ground, her head completely missing, blood spewing from her neck like a fountain, icicle and rock fragments embedded all over her flesh, the skin on her right arm mostly a charred, bubbled mess...

Right at that moment, Blake's mind gives way, collapsing in on itself like a rotten house.

 _Do you want to live or to die?_

Without a moment's hesitation, she delivers her answer, the bullet flying straight at her finding itself embedded in the pale shadow of its intended target…

* * *

Crouched behind a large container filled with pre-made weapon parts, thirteen year old Weiss Schnee feels the bottom of her stomach fall away as the dark truth of the world closes in around her.

 _My entire life has been a lie._ The thought chills her, sends conflicting emotions to rage inside her head. Father had always told her the Faunus' allegations were lies, that they were not being abused and were merely exaggerating or lying outright. They were animals, and you could never trust animals, he said, reinforcing his lessons with the help of a stick or the back of his hand.

And she had always nodded, lowered her head, saying "Yes Father" like a mechanical marionette, obedient due to fear, her insides hollowed out by her careful upbringing, one that molded her into her father's precious little heiress.

"No matter what, you will always trust my word as the law," he had told her, drilled into her, "Especially when it comes to dealing with animals."

Now, it seems like the Faunus were right all along, and the one Weiss should not have trusted was her own father; the sudden undoing of thirteen years' worth of brainwashing is too much for her to handle.

Below her, all but shackled to the assembly line, rows of ragged, skeletally thin Faunus hunch over weaponry parts, their hands scarred and bleeding from handling hot and sharp metal bare-handed; Weiss' stomach churns uncomfortably at the sight, threatening to reject her breakfast.

Once in a while, for no reason at all, one of the human overseers would lash a whip over a Faunus' back, hissing at him or her and slinging slurs, laughing as they cower and whimper. Her father calls that "necessary discipline", and though it has become a normality in her life as the family's disappointing younger daughter, Weiss finds it hard to swallow seeing it inflicted on someone else.

At the end of the line, where the smaller pieces are to be slotted and wired within bigger frames, are a group of young children, most of them half her age or younger. Some of them have broken, chipped horns, while the others, the cats and foxes and dogs and bears and rabbits, have a tag strung through a hole punched into one of their ears.

Tagging a Faunus is a violent and painful act, often done at a young, impressionable age so as to instill great fear within them for humans. Instead of making the puncture through just skin, the taggers aim for cartilage, to wound without disfiguring too obviously, and those tags would forever be a tool of torture against the poor Faunus inflicted with them.

Young Weiss watches in disbelief as her father strides over to the children, to the smallest child at the cruel assembly line, glaring down at her with sharp distaste. The child is painfully small, shoulders slumped, her dark hair clumped and uneven, one rabbit ear hanging at an unnatural angle, and she does not acknowledge his presence. It seems that she has not even noticed him, an oddity for a Faunus.

Probably insulted, her father lashes out at the little girl, sending her sprawling. She does react in any way, her eyes dazed, and for a long moment, no one moves.

The other children begin to tremble, the stench of fear increasing to a nauseating level, as her father lowers his head to speak to the nearby overseer. For a moment, they talk and nod to each other, the young rabbit Faunus finally picking herself up and returning to work. Weiss' stomach clenches uncomfortably at the sight of her small, unsteady steps, a strange feeling gripping her chest.

How can her father subject someone else's child to such conditions, to this kind of torture? The way he treats his own children is his choice, but should he not treat another's with respect, with humanity?

The overseer approaches the line again, picking up the child by her ears and making her cry out. None of the other children react, keeping their eyes pinned to their small, bloodstained fingers, as the overseer drags their friend away; the instinct of self-preservation holding their tongues.

The child coughs feebly, her eyes cast to the floor as her weakened body ceases its struggles, and a nearby rabbit Faunus suddenly tears herself from the assembly line with a panicked cry.

"My baby, what are you doing to my baby?" she wails, reaching out for the barely responsive child; from the glassy look in her eyes, it is obvious that the little girl will not live much longer.

The overseer smacks the Faunus heavily in the face, causing her to crumple, but her desperation and love for her child gives her the strength and courage to grab him by the leg, pleading, "Please, please don't kill my daughter. Please, she's just a little girl…"

Horrified, Weiss raises a hand to her mouth as the overseer kicks the Faunus repeatedly, smashing her nose in and knocking out a few teeth, until she finally slumps against the ground. Her face is a mess, the floor stained with her blood, and for good measure he digs his foot into the base of her ears, drawing out a pained scream.

Sneering, he dangles her sick child before her, "Your precious little bunny is going to die anyway. We're just relieving her of her misery."

Before their eyes, the overseer cracks the child's neck in one swift, grotesque movement, the resulting crack causing Weiss' stomach to empty its contents all over the shiny steel floor. The wounded mother lets out an anguished cry, one that Weiss would never want to hear again for as long as she lives. The overseer merely snorts and walks away, the child's corpse still held aloft by its ears.

From her vantage point a floor above, Weiss can clearly see where the man is headed – a large hole in the ground filled with black liquid, the stench of it causing him to plug his nose with one hand as he nears it.

To her horror, the overseer tosses the child's body into the hole, the resulting splash bringing up a myriad of Faunus bodies in varying stages of decomposition, adult and child alike. For a moment, the partially revealed skull of a horned Faunus lingers at the surface, a portion of its rotting cheek falling off and sinking into the dark water.

She retches again, the sound echoing along steel walls to her father's ears, and he glances sharply in her direction, motioning to another nearby worker urgently.

Even though she knows that he cannot yet see her, fear seizes her entire being, a thousand memories of her horrid childhood flooding through her mind – the beatings, the rigid lessons, the unforgiving judgments, the harsh words, the insistence on a perfection she can never attain – her insides twist agonizingly and she throws up once again.

His footsteps strike fear deeper and deeper into her heart, her small body trembling violently and curling inward protectively in preparation for her punishment. She was not supposed to have followed him to the factory, she is to be at home preparing for some figure skating competition, and disobedience is one of the things he hates the most. The world seems to be made of dogs awaiting his order, dogs who should wait on his every whim, and his daughters are no exception.

"Weiss?" there is anger in her father's voice as he towers over her, his nose wrinkled in distaste at the sight of her expensive breakfast pooled across the floor. He raises a hand and she tenses, her hatred, sorrow and disgust roiling inside her.

Why is a man like him so privileged, why is a man like him allowed to walk with his head held high along the road when he is nothing but a monster? Why does everyone look up to him when he beats his own daughter to a pulp at the slightest "infringement", when he was the one who gave her the scar over her eye? Why respect a man who created icy animosity between his two daughters, turning them into enemies?

Her mind, saturated with anger and hatred and betrayal, caves in at long last.

 _Do you want to die?_

Suddenly, she finds herself within the confines of her crumbling mind, staring at a hollow-eyed version of herself standing behind black bars emblazoned with the Schnee Dust Company's symbol.

The richest company in the world, with a monopoly on all Dust production, known for their high-quality weapons… in reality it is nothing but a cage, a poison that soaks into the lungs of those around it, corrupting them and destroying them.

 _Do you want to stay this way, a puppet, a rag doll, beaten and used? Do you want to continue buying these lies as your family commits such atrocities, as your name becomes tainted with hatred and the blood of children?_

As her father's hand comes down, Weiss gives her resounding, wholehearted answer, a snowflake-etched glyph sending him flying across the factory…

* * *

"Agent Fall, Agent Rose, what's going on in there?"

The slim woman ignores the staticky voice in her ear, leaning forward to peer over the edge of the stacks of crates. Below, members of the White Fang mill around, mumbling to one another as they hurriedly gather as much Dust as possible.

"They're fast," her partner, a smaller woman with short, dark hair whispers, "HQ, we need reinforcements now, or else they're going to have three tons of high-quality Dust."

Before Headquarters can even respond, a huge shadow towers over them, making the duo flinch as the Faunus rumbles, "Look at what we've got here."

The two women roll in separate directions as the Faunus bears down on them, his sword biting into empty ground. Whipping out her government assigned stun gun, the short haired woman points it at him and pulls the trigger, her face quickly contorting in a mixture of confusion and fear.

"Cinder," she hisses, the clicking sound of the resistant trigger sending waves of terror through her being, "Does your gun work?"

Confused, Cinder quickly pulls out her own, the blood draining from her face as the gun greets her with a firm, hollow click – _authentication rejected_.

"HQ, what is going on?" Cinder snarls into her earpiece, launching herself at the huge Faunus' back while her partner lunges for his weapon. "Our authentications have been rejected!"

"Cinder Fall, Summer Rose, you have become liabilities to the government of Vale. Do us a favor and die."

"W-wait, what?" Summer flinches, her eyes blowing wide in fear as her body freezes, "What do you mean? What have we done?"

Static is all that greets them, their earpieces now nothing but useless scraps of metal. Taking advantage of the moment, the Faunus throws Cinder off his back and lunges at Summer with a low growl.

Twisting into a quick roll, Summer manages to only get clipped by the blow as Cinder launches herself at his head, jamming the thinner end of her stun gun into his eye socket. Bellowing, he drops his sword and flails blindly at her, hissing as her nails dig into his other eye. Despite his flailing, she clings on with all her might, concerned eyes flicking between her dazed partner and the snarling Faunus beneath her.

Just as she is about to leap over to check on Summer, the short haired woman gets back to her feet, bleeding from an ugly wound above her left eye. Lunging forward, Summer makes a grab for the Faunus' discarded sword, heaving it over her shoulder and then thrusting it into the blinded man's chest.

He collapses with a great roar, like a dying beast, his face twisted in a snarl as the white mask falls off his face, revealing wide-open golden eyes.

"Whoa, Cinder, hey," Summer laughs lightly as the taller woman practically flings herself at her, hands already worrying at the wound over her eye, "Down, girl, we're in public."

"Are you okay? How badly does it hurt?" as she speaks, Cinder tears a strip of dark cloth from her sleeve, using her other to wipe away most of the blood. "Shit, there's just so much blood…"

"I'm fine, it's just a dramatic scratch." Ignoring Summer's gentle protests, Cinder wraps the strip of cloth around her head, barely resisting the urge to press a gentle kiss against it because _firstly, platonic relationship, and secondly, we're stuck in the middle of a White Fang cell armed with children's toys so we have much more important things we should be focusing on right this moment._

Just then, the echoing sound of footsteps alerts her to her audience – members of the cell have gathered due to their comrade's extremely loud final cry. From their vantage point behind several Dust crates, the ragged semicircle of identically clad men is clear; there are probably fifty or so of them armed with a mixture of guns, clubs and swords.

Cinder swears, something she rarely ever does, causing her partner's lips to twitch upward briefly as she growls, "We can't fight this, there are way too many of the bastards."

"Swearing is so unlike you, Cinder," Summer mock-scolds, raising the dead Faunus' sword high above her head. Before the other woman can hiss at her to _take things seriously, Summer,_ she sends the heavy blade barreling into the gathered terrorists.

Like dominoes, they scatter under the weight of their comrade's weapon, giving the two women the opportunity to dart for the nearest window as fast as their legs can carry them. Just before they slip out the window, a bullet slams into the glass a good three inches above them, the explosive Dust within it sending them flying.

Another swear escapes Cinder's throat as they tumble haphazardly onto the asphalt, pain jarring through her body as a thousand glass fragments rain about them. Grabbing her smaller partner by the wrist, Cinder shoves her forward and keeps at her heels, trying to get as far away as possible before the White Fang's big guns come out.

Swerving behind an empty forklift, Cinder pushes Summer down into a crouch, pressing her body protectively over hers as the White Fang begin to swarm out of the warehouse doors. The thumping of her heart is so loud that she is sure they can hear it; the reality of death has never felt so close before. If their enemies had been human, it would not be difficult to slip away in the darkness, but the Faunus see as well in the night as they do in the day, maybe even better.

"Fan out!" a gruff voice orders, a little too close for comfort, "Don't let those humans escape!"

 _Shit, we have to move fast._ Looking down at her partner, she sees the sentiment mirrored in her eyes, muscles coiling in preparation for a sudden burst of movement. With all the patience they can muster, they wait, listening to the sounds of scuffing boots slowly draw away, a shared glance propelling them forward in a desperate rush to anywhere.

Subconsciously, Cinder lingers a step behind, pressing as much of herself protectively against Summer's side as possible; her knuckles are white from the sheer force she is gripping her gun with. Against any ordinary bullet, her body might be able to suffice as some sort of shield, but against Dust... there is little her flesh and bones can do.

"There they are!" the shout comes too soon, bullets immediately nipping at their heels. Overhead, a sharp, whizzing sound alerts them to a Dust rocket that comes down a few feet to their right, sending up a spray of concrete and fire.

Another rocket follows shortly after the first; plowing about three inches to Summer's right. She cries out, her knees buckling as pain, heat and light consume her world, the sound lost in the ringing of her ears.

Grabbing her by the arm, Cinder pulls her close before going into a roll, plunging down the edge of the wharf into the ice-cold, ink-black water below. With all her strength, she heads for the opposite bank, hissing at Summer to _carry your own weight, you little sack of potatoes, or we'll drown_ as she slings the smaller woman's arm across her shoulder.

"C-Cinder," Summer's voice is trembling, faltering, "I-I won't make it. Please… let me go."

"What the shit are you saying?" she hisses, glancing down at the too-pale face of her long-time partner, flinching when the moonlight glints off the blood that stains her lips.

"My right s-side… it's mostly gone," Summer responds weakly, gently taking Cinder's hand with her own and ghosting it down the gaping wound at her side – the rocket had torn away a large chunk of her torso, and if it were light, Cinder knew they would be paddling in a sea of scarlet. "Go… go on w-without me."

"I can't! There is no way I'm leaving you here. Goddammit, if not for me, think of _him_ , of your daughters – you promised Ruby ice-cream, remember?" tears are biting at the edges of Cinder's eyes, and it takes all her effort to remain strong despite the chilling fear and aching loss.

Summer's lips twitch upward in a sorrowful smile, her voice rasping weakly against Cinder's ear, "I can't, even if I want to."

"I'm not leaving you, no matter what you say," she responds stubbornly, tightening her grip around her partner's waist, "Ruby is barely eight years old, there is no way you're abandoning her. There is no way you're abandoning _me_."

"For goddess' sake, Cinder…" Summer's voice breaks, and for a painfully long moment, she struggles to hold back tears, "I've already caused you so much pain… I don't want… I don't want to be the cause of your death as well…"

She's sobbing now, her breath coming in hot gasps as she leans against her best friend and partner's shoulder; their history has cost Cinder so much that she cannot believe her friend is still around. What has their friendship given her aside from heartache, aside from an unrequited love she has been carrying since they were teenagers?

"That's not your fault, it's mine. Now if you have the energy to talk, use it to walk. We've hit the bank now, be careful." She's gentle, she has always been gentle to her, and it breaks Summer's heart to have Cinder treat her like this. Slowly, painfully slowly, they heave themselves onto the bank, stumbling into the bushes as the lights of the White Fang's little fishing boats wink on and off in the distance.

"Cinder…" Summer can no longer feel her legs, her entire body is cold and all she wants to do is sleep. She has lost too much blood and she knows it, but if she faints, she will only be a deadweight to Cinder, and they will both end up caught because Cinder would rather die than leave her behind as long as there is still breath in her body.

"Ssh," Cinder murmurs dismissively, shifting her shoulder lower to further accommodate her partner's weight, "Don't talk, just walk."

She talks anyway, her voice coming out in a pained whisper, "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For not being able to love you," before Cinder can protest, say that it was never Summer's fault that her heart was someone else's, she powers on, "and… for this."

Startled, Cinder turns to look at her friend, confusion draining from her face as she sees the small, jagged knife clutched in her Summer's hands.

"Summer, what are you doing? Summer, no, _no_!"

The blade glints in the moonlight, and Cinder's mind crumbles to pieces as her beloved's blood splatters, warm and sticky, across her body. Summer's final breath escapes warm against her lips; the kiss that Cinder has always longed for, a kiss that will haunt her for the rest of her days.

 _Do you want to die?_

The sudden question brings forth a burning agony deep inside her, two different answers shrieking at her from deep inside her head – _yes_ , to be with Summer, the girl she has always loved, or _no_ , to take revenge for Summer, to make the government pay for her death.

 _Will you be satisfied with that choice?_

A Dust rocket flies toward her, cementing her decision, and it suddenly stops in its tracks as a pair of yellow rings, formed by what seem like runic symbols, begin to rotate around her body…

* * *

"D-Dad, what's wrong?" concerned, she runs up to her father's side, wondering why all the color has drained from his face. Peering around his legs, she sees the pair of black-clad agents at the door, their heads lowered, and the realization begins to dawn on her.

Her younger sister barrels down the stairs, the end of a cookie sticking out of her mouth, their dog Zwei right at her heels. Startled by the solemn atmosphere, she stops, the cookie dropping onto the floor, "M-Mom…?"

"I'm so sorry," one of the agents mumbles, averting his eyes from the increasingly concerned eight year old before him, "Taiyang, we did what we could-"

"I'm sure you did," her father, Taiyang, croaks out at last, crouching down and pulling his daughters closer to him. A sob shudders through his broad shoulders, and a frown spreads across the younger child's face as she leans into him.

Zwei whimpers in confusion, ignoring the fallen cookie for once and choosing to nuzzle into his tiny master instead. Yang rests one hand on his head, trying to keep the tears from blurring her vision as reality rampages through her insides.

"Dad…? What's going on?"

She can't bring herself to look at her sister, aware that the eight year old will soon be suffering the same pain she did when her mother disappeared, all those years ago. She wishes she could do something, anything, to relieve that pain, but she knows better.

Nothing will ever heal that wound; nothing will ever take up that empty space that will forever lurk in her heart.

"Yang, Ruby," Taiyang calls their names softly, as if it pains him too much to speak, "Mom… Mom will not be coming home."

"What? Why?" tears begin to fill Ruby's pale silver eyes, "Is Mom angry that I took too many cookies again? I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

Taiyang's chest rumbles, a bitter laugh, and Yang finds tears pooling in her own eyes as he delivers the damning, world-shattering words to her beloved baby sister, "Ruby, Mom is dead."

 _Dead_. Yang hates that word more than any other, hates the finality of it, the hopelessness of it. _Dead_ , dead and gone, gone forever… it is a concept no eight year old should ever have to grapple with.

Ruby freezes up, a tiny whimper escaping her throat, and the two agents scoot a few feet back out of respect, or maybe guilt. No one likes delivering bad news, especially not when there is a child in the house too innocent for her years. How do you ever get used to telling a child that her mother is never coming home again?

"Rubes…" she reaches over for her sister, pulling her close, rubbing her back as sobs begin to tremble and jerk their way through her tiny body. Yang has no idea what to say, even though she's gone through it all before, because there are no words to be said when a child has just lost her parent. _It's okay, don't cry,_ all those useless words achieve nothing.

Breaking away from her hold, Ruby turns to glare at the two agents, screaming, "What happened to my mom? What did you do to her? Mom would never die!"

They stare wordlessly at her, there is a guilty look on their faces that Yang really does not like. It is as if there is more to this story than they have told Taiyang, secrets they know that they will not spill but feel bad about keeping.

"Tell me!" they cannot look Ruby in the eye, yet all the signs seem to be flying over her grieving father's head. "Tell me what happened to my mom!"

"Ruby, darling, come here," Taiyang calls for her at last, reaching out for the wailing, angry little girl. She skirts away from him, eyes burning, going up to one of the agents and delivering a withering blow to his shin. "Ruby!"

"I-it's alright," he mumbles, trying not to wince as the eight year old glares up at him, her entire body trembling. "I'm very, very sorry for your pain and sadness, Ruby, believe me."

Biting her lip, Ruby looks up at him, then back at her family huddled by the doorstep – her father, broken and tearful, and her beloved elder sister, concerned and wounded – before bolting down the street with a blind scream.

"If you won't tell me, I'll find out on my own!"

Frozen, Yang stares at her sister's fading red cape, wondering if she should give chase or stay alongside the rapidly crumbling pieces of her father. Looking down at him, at the heartbroken and lost expression on his face, the thirteen year old makes a choice she will regret for the rest of her life.

"Maybe you should go to bed, Dad. I'll bring you some tea."

Like a shrunken old man, Taiyang obeys, tears already beginning to cascade down his face as he shuffles into the house. As if losing one wife had not been enough for him...

The hours fly by like feathers in a whirlwind, she barely notices the sun sink beyond the hills until she trips over Zwei at the base of the stairs. Ruby still hasn't come home; she should probably call the police because Vale is not particularly safe for an eight year old at night. There are organized crime groups running about, and the White Fang do not exempt children from their violent attacks.

"Yang!" a loud, panicked shriek of her name makes her stiffen, Zwei getting onto his short, stubby legs as the fur around his neck bristles. "Yang!"

Recognizing her baby sister's voice, all coherent thought bleeds from Yang's mind as she races toward her, consumed by the need to protect her most precious family member. There is more fear in Ruby's voice than she has ever heard before, even when she was confronted with the business end of a gun for disturbing a riot patrol, and it turns Yang's blood to ice.

Ruby is crouched in the back alley, her cape half-torn, her eyes wild and hunted in a way no eight year old's should be when Yang finds her.

"Rubes, what's wrong?" before she can wrap her sister up in a big hug, she flinches away, silver eyes darting up and down the alley. After a few sweeps, Ruby pulls a small recording device from under her cape, sliding it across the floor to Yang.

Voice lowered, Ruby says urgently, "I know why Mom died. You have to tell Dad, they don't want Dad to know. They were lying to us."

"Wha-"

Before Yang can even get that word out of her mouth, the sickening sound of flesh exploding rips through the air, blood and brain matter splattering, hot and sticky, across her body.

Ruby's small form crashes to the floor, a clean bullet entry wound in the back of her head, her forehead and face a mess of flesh, blood and pieces of her brain. Frozen in shock, Yang stares soundlessly at her baby sister's corpse as the recording begins to play, a sinister backdrop to an equally sinister scene.

" _HQ, what is going on? Our authentications have been rejected!"_

" _Cinder Fall, Summer Rose, you have become liabilities to the government of Vale. Do us a favor and die."_

" _HQ, what is going on? Our authentications have been rejected!"_

" _Cinder Fall, Summer Rose, you have become liabilities to the government of Vale. Do us a favor and die."_

Again and again, the recording replays itself, as the fragments of Yang's mind slowly crumble to ashes. Her mother, gone, her stepmother, dead, and now her baby sister as well… What else will the government wrench from her hands? What else must they take away from her before they are satisfied?

"Miss Xiao Long," an icy, almost robotic voice sounds behind her, and she turns to face the cold eyes of the man Ruby had kicked earlier, a gun in his hands. "I'm sorry."

 _Do you want to die?_

From the depths of her shattered mind, a corrupted version of her own voice echoes, eyes burning with hatred and the desire for vengeance. The specter in her mind clenches her fists, blood red eyes blazing as she slams her fists against the crumbling bars of her prison.

 _Are you satisfied with your life? Will you leave it like this?_

As he pulls the trigger, Yang's eyes turn blood red, her hair coming alive like flickering golden fire…

 **A/N: Thank you for reading, please leave a review behind! I'll give you cookies (if Yang hasn't eaten them all again)!**

 **Haruka**


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